Á¦12ȸ ¿µ¹®¿¡¼¼ÀÌ ÃÖ¿ì¼öÀÛ "Kimchi without Red Pepper Powder" - ·Î»ç ÀÌ(18¡¤Åä·ÐÅä´ë) It may have been almost ten years ago, but the memories of my flight to Canada are still clear in my mind. I can still see the glorious array of golden clouds pressing against the window of the plane. I remember wondering where the angels hid, for I had never seen a view more grand or beautiful than the sky. As I look back to this day, I realize that it was the dawn of a new life in Canada. Although, my life has continued to walk on to different paths, the past seem only a step behind. Just when you believe that life is ordinary, the last day of November marks a decade of living in Canada, and your roots yank you back into a tumble of memories galore. To my surprise, I've not forgotten the delights of my childhood in the city of Suwon. I recollect the trees and wedges of land untouched by civilization, places I roamed as a child looking for a special piece of nature. In the heat of the summer, I took up my little blue net and searched for cicadas, and although its songs deafened all other sounds, I never found the elusive insect. Nevertheless, at the end of the day my net never lacked for dragonflies, creating a flurry of winged red and blue when they were finally set free by the sinking sun. Rainy days were spent looking for little green frogs as the rain filled out large puddles and decked the grass with glitter. After the rain, the leaves would always seen greener and the air sweeter than before. Naturally, the memories of summer in Korea abound, since the rest of the year was spent in study. Yet, I remember hunting for spiky chestnuts on the autumn forest floor, and the sweet orange-red glow of persimmons growing in our grandfather's garden. I had dreamed that such days would last forever. Truly, I never believed that I would leave it all for a new life inn Canada. Yet, somehow I found myself seated in a plane travelling a vast distance towards the west, leaving my friends, my dragonflies, and all that I know in the east. I took comfort in my family when uncertainty and wariness crept towards me, but curiosity and a child's courage kept fear well away. As we neared the reality of solid ground, I looked out my window and upon seeing a gray-white emptiness marred only by black scars, I dreaded living in such an ugly country. Nevertheless, we arrived at Pearson Airport, out hairs rumpled and our clothes without a patch left unwrinkled. Fortunately, my glum initial observation of this new country did not last, for I saw with awe the diverse ethnic backgrounds evident in the people around us. It was beautiful. Personally, I felt as if I was back at the Expo World Fair in Korea, but this time in a country that was a patchwork of many other nations, knitted together into a colourful work of life. It was then that I realized that life in Canada will not be gray, bland, or lonely. I saw that seasons would change, new friends would be made, and the most precious memories of Korea would be tucked away safe in me. Inevitable, after spending more than half my life in Canada, I acknowledge the changes in me. In embracing today, I had allowed a part of yesterday to slip away unnoticed. Since then, I've learned the importance of taking a pause to remember my roots. Thus after ten years, I can still see and remember my Korea, it is as much a part of me as my arms or my legs. I prefer to think of it as a part of my heart. Yet a decade in Canada has made it my home and I revel in the wide-open spaces, parks ran by squirrels, snow and more snow, and fruit twice the regular size I remember from Korea. The rugged coasts of P.E.I., the historical sites of Quebec, the bright lights of Toronto's skyline at dust, have all come to represent home. However, I never feel more home, than when I'm pouring out red pepper powder as my mother prepares the ingredients for Kimchi. Making Kimchi always seems to bring about a flood of old memories, some repeated from months before, but appreciated just the same. I am proud of Canada, but it is my heritage and memories of Korea, which add vital spice to my life as a Korean Canadian. I treasure my heritage because without it, life would be like Kimchi without red pepper powder.